


yo te busco

by thesilverwitch



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Footy Ficathon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverwitch/pseuds/thesilverwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re late.”</p><p>“A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to,” Silva says as he rests his broom next to a potted plant by the door.</p><p>Villa gives Silva a flat look that makes it clear he’d have slapped Silva on the back of head for that if he weren’t sitting down in his old man chair and Silva standing up two meters away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	yo te busco

**Author's Note:**

  * For [souzou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/souzou/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Fabi! I hope you enjoy this little fic I wrote based on your prompt at the ficathon. It was certainly a lot of fun to write (magical AUs always are. It's terrible, they're too addicting). Anyway, I hope you have a really great day and that you enjoy many more birthdays to come. ♥♥
> 
> Silva's first line was taken from JRR Tolkien, because you can bet your ass Silva is a Tolkien nerd. There are notes on the background story at the end.

“You’re late.”

“A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to,” Silva says as he rests his broom next to a potted plant by the door.

Villa gives Silva a flat look that makes it clear he’d have slapped Silva on the back of head for that if he weren’t sitting down in his old man chair and Silva standing up two meters away.

“I’m a wizard too, smartass. Go try that on some other bastard,” he says as he gets up. He raises his arms above his head, stretching his body like a lazy cat until the bones pop and his spine goes taunt. Silva stares at the line of tanned skin exposed when Villa’s shirt rides up. He doesn’t even try to hide his ogling. He and Villa left that stage of their relationship a long time ago.

“How was the trip?” Villa asks as he enters the house, which Silva still thinks of as Villa’s creaky, dark-magic abode, complete with spiderwebs, melted candles and an array of paintings and portraits on the front hall.

All it’s missing is the actual dark magic part and a more frightening atmosphere. The spiderwebs work all right, but only until you find out that it’s spiderweb, singular, and that Villa is keeping it on purpose because the spider living in it is his pet (“I called her Lucinda. What? She eats all the flies and dead insects lying around. She’s useful.”). The paintings are also creepy only until Villa decides to finally light more than one candle and you see they’re all normal paintings of things like waterfalls and villages, painted by Villa’s grandmother and given to him as a gift.

“Good. You were right, it’s easier to fly in than trying to enchant one of the institute’s boats,” Silva leans back against one of the counters while he watches Villa move about in his tiny kitchen.

He opens and closes a cupboard every five seconds, pulling jars and inspecting them before putting them back in their place. He occasionally takes a couple of leaves and deposits them in their respective mugs. After a few minutes, Villa enchants a boiler near the stove to heat some water and pours them both their usual cup of tea. Peppermint for Silva and rosehips for Villa.

“I know I was. You always complicate everything,” Villa says as he hands Silva his mug. It’s designed to look like a cat, so that the tail is the handle and it has a pair of twinkling eyes. It’s a little old, but you still have to be careful with it since every now and then the cat thinks it’s funny to stretch and make you spill your drink. Villa’s is designed to look like the starry sky, with hundreds of flickering yellow dots and one large, pearl moon.

“You’re just saying that because you think the simplest solution is always the best one,” Silva says. He tries to glare at Villa, who is flashing him a smug grin, but it’s hard to do so when he’s drinking the best tea in existence in Villa’s kitchen, and the owner of said kitchen has his hand on Silva’s waist and their bodies pressed together.

“That’s because it is,” Villa chuckles.

Silva shakes his head. “Not always." Silva’s subconscious has him looking up as he speaks. He glances at the pale kitchen walls and the deep ocean blue outside Villa’s window. The stained glass is in need of a wash, but who is Silva to judge other people’s cleanliness.

“Did you come here so we could have this fight again?” Villa asks, sighing. His breath nudges Silva’s jaw as his thumb rubs gentle circles on Silva’s hip.

“No. I came here because I missed you,” Silva’s bout of raw honesty makes Villa swallow and look away, like he wasn’t expecting such a direct answer. Silva grins. Villa can often be unpredictable, but that doesn’t change how Silva’s always been able to read him like a book about ancient runes.

“How’s the institute?” Villa asks, detaching himself from Silva and moving to the living room.

“Albiol blew up a potions classroom last thursday and Mata is currently hiding in the library, working on all the papers he’d forgotten about.”

“So just another week then?” Villa asks, grinning at Silva.

“Just another week,” Silva grins back.

The fireplace in the living room is already lit when they get there, a steady fire that casts a warm glow over the room. Silva runs his hands over Villa’s bookshelves as he walks towards the sofa, which is older than either of them and the epitome of comfort thanks to an enchantment Silva casts every time he visits. Villa could do it himself if he wanted. Of course, if he did it he wouldn't be David Villa, who has always been too stubborn to admit his home is anything but perfect.

Outside it starts to rain, slow kisses of water that beat down on the wooden roof.

They sit side by side; Silva with his feet tucked beneath his knees, Villa with a leg casually tossed over the other. There are a couple of magazines on the coffee table, a new addition to the Villa abode.

Silva scans them without really paying attention. Magia Valenciana. El Mago Español. The Wizarding World News. All stuff that Villa, as a self-imposed hermit, needs to read to be caught up on the news. Although it’s a little surprising that Villa wants to be caught up on the news in the first place. He always avoids talking about what’s happening in the wizarding world when Silva visits, swiftly changing the topic to the newest type of algae he found at the beach or the state of the new shed Silva’s dad is building.

It’s the last title, though, hidden underneath all the other periodicals, that catches Silva’s attention. Revista del Instituto de València. It's the periodical Silva’s institute releases every month with news about events, academic achievements and student stories. Silva was on this month’s cover after his paper on the effects of proximity to the sea on magical prowess received an award for outstanding research work from Europe’s most distinguished magic university.

“Congratulations,” Villa says after he catches Silva staring at the magazine. Silva turns toward him in time to see Villa scratch the back of his neck and duck his head.

“I didn’t know you’d heard about that,” Silva says, for lack of something more obvious to say.

“I try to keep up with the news and, uh, your name was mentioned in one of the magazines and then I just…” Villa trails off. He’s still staring at the floor.

“Went and bought every magazine that talked about the award?” Silva guesses. A smile starts to take place on his face.

“Yeah, that,” Villa coughs, running a hand across his hair before he jumps from the couch without warning and says, “I’m hungry. Are you hungry? What am I saying, of course you are, you just spent the past three hours flying over the Mediterranean to get here,” Villa looks away, into the kitchen.

“David,” Silva says, and when that doesn’t get Villa’s attention, he grabs his hand and repeats, quieter, “David, sit down.”

Villa sits down.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you embarrassed before,” Silva muses out loud, knowing it will get Villa to finally look at him simply so he can glare at Silva’s satisfied grin.

“I’m not embarrassed,” Villa grumbles. He sounds like a petulant child and it’s without a doubt one of the endearing things Silva’s ever seen, which must say a lot about him and Villa.

“Oh, but you are. It’s adorable, you’re even blushing. It’s making me think I should embarrass you more often just to see you blush,” Silva says.

He leans towards Villa with laugher still coating his lips, aiming for a chaste kiss that quickly becomes heated when Villa growls, “I’ll show you adorable,” and pushes Silva until they’re both lying on the couch, chest to chest, with Villa pressing Silva into the cushions.

Silva lets himself be kissed, opening his mouth without resistance and wrapping his legs around Villa’s waist. He can’t help the moan that escapes past his mouth when Villa rolls down his hips, nor the breathy gasps when Villa starts trailing open kisses down Silva’s jaw.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Silva says. Villa sits up.

“I thought you liked Rosberta.”

Silva groans and throws his palm at his face. “Please stop naming everything in your home after famous flamenco singers, or at least don’t mention said names while we’re trying to have sex.”

“ _I’m_ trying to get us to have sex,” Villa says, leaning down to leave a soft bite on the curve of Silva’s chin. “You’re complaining about where we do it, as if we haven’t already done it on every surface of this house.”

Silva pulls Villa in for another kiss and is the one to break it when he feels like he’s running out of air. “It’s just that I don’t have any papers to write this weekend, nor any classes on Monday,” he says as he pushes Villa off him, “which means if I leave at the break of dawn on Tuesday I’ll still make it in time for classes that day. This, in turn, means we have three days and nights to spend together this weekend and that we can take our time. So no couch sex, we’re doing this properly.”

Villa laughs as he gets up, either at Silva’s explanation or Silva’s weak attempts to push Villa him away, but he still says, “Alright, let’s take our time then,” and kisses Silva slow and deep in front of the fireplace, before he takes Silva’s hand and leads them to his bedroom.

As Villa pushes him onto the bed and starts stripping in front of Silva, a button at a time, Silva thinks about how they could have this everyday if Villa hadn’t left. How Silva wouldn’t have to push himself like crazy during the week so he can have the weekends free for him and Villa. How there would be a fire roaring in Silva’s dorm room every night, and how Villa would always be there to keep him sane during exam season.

Instead they have this: secret encounters in Villa’s remote cottage by the sea and Silva lying to everyone because Villa doesn’t want people to know Silva’s still friends with him.

It’s enough. Just having Villa has always been enough for Silva. Yet sometimes, he can’t help but wish he could find a way to clear Villa’s name, so they could have a little more.

**Author's Note:**

> to finish this off, here’s some background information since apparently i’m incapable of not thinking up complete backgrounds for every story i write, even when said story is only meant to be a short birthday gift.
> 
> \- silva and villa are both wizards. they met at the Escuela para Magos y Brujas de València and have been good friends since.
> 
> \- on their last year of high school, villa was accused of murder and use of dark magic against two of his colleagues. the details of what happened are, to this day, still unclear. all that is known is that villa got into a fight with these two students who he was already known to dislike (never mind that he was known to dislike half the school population) and that later that same day, the two students disappeared. they were found dead in the woods five days later, one of them holding a scarf that villa had been wearing the day they disappeared.
> 
> \- despite not being formally prosecuted because there wasn’t enough evidence, villa’s school still thought it best to kick him out. that, plus the media blowing everything out of proportion and treating villa like shit, was really rough on him and what led villa to decided the best thing to do was to basically drop off the face of the earth.
> 
> \- silva knows villa isn’t guilty because villa might be bitchy as hell, but he sure as fuck ain’t a murderer. he really isn’t down with villa living away from society by himself and acting like he’s somehow guilty about what happened, and he spends pretty much every ounce of his free time a) trying to clear villa’s name b) working on his research for money grants because he’s broke c) with villa in villa’s cottage. him and villa only started dating/having sex the year after villa decided to go into isolation, after silva spent weeks looking for him. silva might have punched villa right in the face when he finally found him, but it’s chill because he then kissed the living daylights out of him sO.
> 
> \- nowadays silva attends the prestigious Instituto de València para Estudios Avanzados de Magia (also known as the Instituto de València), which is located on an untraceable island near Ibiza. he wishes villa attended with him because villa is absolutely brilliant at magic and silva’s still!! really!! angry!! about what happened and the injustice of it all. 
> 
> \- cue lots of angry sex whenever silva starts hinting that villa should go back into the real world. [end of postscript]


End file.
